


The Living Nightmare

by anipwrites



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akuma Possession, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Alternating, POV Male Character, POV Minor Character, POV Third Person, Rated For Violence, be warned, fairly sure this counts as angst, idk if bruises and blood counts as graphic, mom said it did so here we are just in case, rated for language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anipwrites/pseuds/anipwrites
Summary: When Nathanael's notebook was destroyed, he didn't know someone could be akumatized twice.He didn't know it was possible to deny an akuma.He couldn't have known there would be repercussions.How could anyone have foreseen what would happen next?(Rated T for swears and minor violence)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story! I have no idea how long this story will be, but thanks for joining me on the ride!  
> I got the idea for this story from a drawing I'd started earlier this month. I'd been holding off posting it because I like to stay about two chapters ahead, but I really wanted to post something for New Years. As usual, I can't promise a regular update schedule, but I hope you guys like it!

Nathanael burst into the house, slammed the front door closed, and ran to his room. He didn't bother to lock the front door. However, he did lock the bedroom door. Perhaps if he was lucky, locking the bedroom door would keep his emotions away, keep the world away.

It didn't work, obviously.

He slumped against the door, reaching and tugging his covers off of his bed to wrap them around himself. He was cold, his entire body wouldn't stop shaking, and he knew he was about to cry and he wanted to stop it but he couldn't.

Looking at his sketchbook, which had every page soaked and blackened by markers, he barely managed to bite back a sob at the sight of what Chloe had done, what he had let happen. Now all of his hard work had gone down the drain, and it was all Chloe's fault, it _always_ was. He could still hear her cackling laughter as he'd run out of the Lycèe, heard it echoing in his head the whole way home. He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't let Chloe upset him ever again, that he'd face her with a straight face and tell her off the next time she'd tried to bully him. How naive he'd been--it was _Chloe Bourgeois,_ the only person he knew who could face her was Marinette. And she'd been out of school today, so no one was there and brave enough to stop the Pampered Princess of Paris and her lackey from taking a Sharpie marker and scribbling and doodling and ruining every drawing in his sketchbook while he'd gone to the bathroom.

Did she understand how much she'd taken from him? Everyone had heard of her little speech about how her locker was her 'private garden' and how those who entered without permission 'broke her soul and stole her privacy.' If some dumb locker was a private garden, his sketchbook had been Eden. And Chloe had just broken in with a steamroller and turned paradise into a wasteland.

The lump in his throat kept tightening. Emotions whirled in his head. He wanted to scream out his every frustration. He wanted to punch Chloe in the face and rip her hair out, maybe tear some of her designer clothes and see how _she_ liked it for once. He wanted to stomp his feet and cry out how it was so unfair, like his brother's constant temper-tantrums. He wanted to draw out each and every emotion, release them like fireflies from a jar through his art. Another glance at his sketchbook reminded him that he _couldn't._

Why was _Chloe Bourgeois_ allowed to stomp around like some kind of tyrant and crush everyone's emotions underfoot with no consequence? It wasn't fair, it just wasn't, he--

The room took a hazy purple glow as a dark voice dripped like sweet poison into his ears.

" _Evillustrator,"_ the voice began-sickeningly familiar in a way Nathanael _did not like. "I am Hawkmoth. I can give you the power to take revenge on Chloe Bourgeois, as long as you bring me a gift in return."_

His mind had gone simply _foggy_ all of a sudden. He couldn't think straight. Every primal desire in him screamed _yes, take the offer, do it,_ but… he really didn't want to. He was frustrated, and sure, he wanted to get revenge on Chloe, but not like this. He'd let his emotions take control of him once before, and he'd felt awful afterwards. He wasn't going to let this man manipulate him again. He could always buy a new sketchbook. He couldn't take back the guilt he'd feel if he took this offer.

" _Do we have a deal?"_ Hawkmoth asked yet again. For an instant, every thought in his brain frazzled again, but a sharp clarity burned through the haze. He took a deep breath.

"No."

" _What?!"_

"I… I said _no._ " he felt so much power in that word. Last year, he'd been faced in this situation and had said yes. This simple, two-letter word had so much strength now. He'd fallen before, he'd let him control him before. But not today.

" _You will obey me! You are_ mine _to control!"_

"No, I'm not." he narrowed his eyes. He couldn't help but feel as if he were standing face to face with the villain, having a match of wits, a stare-down.

The man let out a frustrated roar, and Nathanael couldn't keep himself from wincing. " _You'll pay for this disrespect!"_ he shuddered. He didn't want to, but his body had betrayed his brain and he couldn't stop shaking. Hawkmoth had hurt him before, and he seemed legitimately _pissed_ this time, what was he going to do?!

His answer came to him in the form of a sharp pain in his chest. He let out a strangled scream as the pain branched out from his chest and into every fiber of his being. It felt like he was being torn in half, limb by limb, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. As the world went black around him, he thought he heard Hawkmoth's evil laughter. He thought he heard Chloe's mocking cackle.

He thought he saw his fingertips turning purple.

* * *

The world muddled into a blur as he struggled to open his eyes. The cool surface pressing into his side told him he was on the floor of some place. But where was he?

He managed to blink a few times, and his vision begins to clear. He was at his house. Was it all a dream? Maybe, just maybe, it was all a bad dream--he had simply rolled out of bed somewhere in the night. Chloe had never trashed his sketchbook. Hawkmoth had never tried to akumatize him. He just needed to get up, go to school, and keep that from happening.

He saw his sketchbook lying on the ground, the edges torn. Okay… maybe the Chloe thing wasn't a dream. But surely, the Hawkmoth thing wasn't real. Sure, he'd been able to hurt his hand before, but that was when he'd accepted the deal. He let a white-gloved hand reach for his sketchbook to see if anything was salvageable--

Nathanael felt his heart drop when he saw his arm. The white, skin-tight spandex that stretched across it, black stripes zig-zaging their way up his arm. Looking at his other hand yielded the same results.

"No… no way…" he struggled to his feet, his legs heavy like lead, and forced his way out of his bedroom to the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror greeted him with a glimpse of purple skin and a butterfly-shaped domino mask on his face. Nathanael nearly screamed bloody murder. Instead, he ended up throwing up.

His hands shook uncontrollably when he'd recovered. As much as one _could,_ in his situation. He looked up at the mirror once more, and still found himself face-to-face with the Evillustrator. _What the hell was going on?_

Was this Hawkmoth's payback? To force a transformation upon him, and leave him to deal with the consequences of it?

Wow. Hawkmoth was a dick.

He rushed back to his room to get his phone. He couldn't think of anyone who would help, who would _be able_ to help, but he'd feel better if he had the illusion of being able to call someone for help.

The front door clicked before opening, revealing his mother with groceries and his little brother tagging along. When they noticed him, his mother dropped her bags and her hands flew to her mouth with a gasp. His brother's eyes bugged out of his head.

"Oh my god… Nathanael…" his mother said softly, her voice cracking. Her concern was drowned out by his brother's shrill screams.

"Mommy, it's a monster! I'm scared, Mommy!" he wailed, clinging to her leg. Nathanael's heart seized at seeing his brother so afraid of him, at seeing his _mother_ so afraid of him. Every part of him screamed for him to _run,_ to just _get out of there._

He took heed this time.

He ran to the window by the couch, quickly erasing it on his tablet before leaping out and landing in an alleyway near their house. The fall sent shockwaves of pain through his body, but he ignored it. For now, he just ran. He ran as far and as fast as his legs could possibly carry him, until he'd eventually tired himself out.

_Now what?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathanael finds sanctuary in Ivan, Ladybug and Chat Noir are helping but not in the way they wanted, and something fishy is afoot...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol maybe I should make a trend of updating this story late at night or at inconvenient times just to make you suffer. Enjoy this 11:50 before MLK day update muahahaha!  
> This chapter was beta-read by [thecrazydragonlady](http://thecrazydragonlady.tumblr.com/)! Thanks so much!

Nathanael hadn’t dared let himself leave the alley. It was still the middle of the afternoon; going out in broad daylight would only bring about more screams and accusations. He didn’t want to face them. He wasn’t ready to.

It wasn’t until sunset when he saw a familiar face. The hulking shape of Ivan was unmistakable, and a welcome sight.

Without really thinking, he leaped to his feet and ran over. “Ivan! Ivan, I need your help!”

Ivan turned with a gasp and his eyes widened with fear. He let out a shout and stumbled back until he tripped over the curb and fell back.

“H-Hey! Stay back, d-don’t hurt me!” he brought an arm up, as if to block an attack or protect his face.

“Wh-What? Ivan, what are you talking about, why would I hurt you?” Nathanael froze in his spot. Ivan’s eyebrows furrowed.

“... _ Nathanael? _ Why do you look like that?”

“What? I--oh.  _ Oh.  _ Oh, wow, I’m stupid!” Nathanael facepalmed with a sigh before coming over to help him up. “Sorry, man. That must’ve been pretty scary.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool. But… what happened to you?”

“It’s… a bit of a long story.”

Ivan shrugged, offering a supportive smile. “I’ve got time.”

Nathanael let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair and taking off his beret, clutching it to his chest. “Well… you know what happened in art class?”

“No… what happened?”

“You… didn’t see it?”

“No, not that I recall.”

“Well, Chloe trashed my sketchbook.”

“I definitely didn’t see that. I would’ve stopped her, or at least tried.”

“You didn’t see it?”

“No. I remember you went to the bathroom, and then the bell rang. You weren’t back yet, and your stuff was still there. No one wanted to just take your stuff, so we figured you’d come back for it and left. Now that I think about it… Chloe and Sabrina were lagging behind a bit. I just figured it was because they were on their phones… I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault, it’s Chloe’s. Well, I ran home. And… I was pretty emotional about it.”

“Uh-oh. Emotions in Paris are never a good idea.” Ivan joked. Nathanael couldn’t help but laugh a bit. He was right, after all--look at where emotions had gotten him, had gotten everyone in class.

“Well, I was in my room all emotional and stuff and all of a sudden Hawkmoth’s like  _ ‘lol I am Hawkmoth you’ve failed me once but I’m giving you another opportunity to snatch some jewelry for me.’ _ ” He grinned when Ivan started laughing at his Hawkmoth imitation.

“Oh my gosh!” He managed to wheeze out after a few moments of laughter.

“ _ So. _ ” He clasped his hands together, nearly dropping his hat before remembering and grabbing it again. “He’s doing his thing. And I’m just like  _ ‘y’know, I kind of want to, but at the same time I really don’t want to’  _ so I said no.”

“That’s  _ possible?! _ ”

“I… guess? I mean, I definitely wasn’t self-aware enough to do it the first time. Maybe it’s something about having it happen a second time with a different butterfly?” Ivan shrugged wordlessly. “But yeah, so he’s pissed. And then he’s all like  _ ‘oh how dare you say no to compulsory mind control fuck you’  _ and then everything just  _ hurt.  _ And I passed out. And I woke up like...this.” Nathanael glared at his hands. Maybe if he stared at them long enough, the costume would just melt away and he’d be back to normal. He could go home.

He wasn’t that lucky.

“That sucks, man. Who knew Hawkmoth could actually  _ do  _ that to someone?”

“Right? I’m… kinda worried I won’t be able to get back to normal.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out, I’ll help. Maybe we can get Max to help, or Alya?”

“What if I can never go back home? My brother was so scared of me, he said I was a monster…” He let out a dejected sigh, running his hands through his hair again. He felt tears threatening to escape and he tried his best to keep them at bay.

“...I’m sorry. If you want, you can come to my place. My dad’ll be cool about it.” Ivan offered.

Nathanael looked up, a smile on his face. “Really…?”

“Yeah! He’s pretty chill about everything. I’ll call ahead so he can get the guest room ready.” Ivan offered him another smile, pulling out his phone to call his father.

“Thank you  _ so much! _ ”

“Anytime, Nathanael. It’s a bit late to be asking Max and Alya to come over. Maybe we can ask them to come tomorrow morning, or tomorrow after school?” Nathanael nodded, and they started their walk back to Ivan’s house.

For awhile, everything was going smoothly, going perfectly. The streets were beginning to empty out a bit, so if they took a few side-paths and cut through some alleyways, no one saw him and freaked out. According to Ivan, they were getting pretty close to his house. His dad was ready with food for the both of them and a place for him to stay until they could get this problem solved. It looked like the rest of the night was going to go smoothly without issue.

He wasn’t that lucky.

They saw two dark shapes bounding over the rooftops, their forms outlined by stars. Ivan’s breath hitched as if he’d suddenly gotten an idea.

“If anyone might know how to fix this, it would be Ladybug and Chat Noir!” he breathed. He seemed just as excited about meeting the Heroes of Paris outside of akuma attacks as he was about helping his classmate.

Nathanael grinned. “You’re right! Let's get their attention!” He took a deep breath and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Ladybug!!”

“Chat Noir!!” Ivan joined in. It took maybe a minute of shouting, but they finally grabbed their attention. The two shapes made their way over. They were expecting them to help. 

Nathanael barely managed to dodge in time to avoid the baton that struck the spot where he had been. Almost immediately after, Chat Noir himself leaped down in front of them and charged. He was barely able to stumble back in time before he heard a whizzing in the air and turned to find Ladybug swinging from her yoyo, shouting “We’ll help you, Ivan!” She kicked him in the head, sending him flying back across the street, where he hit a lamp post. The spotted heroine went to attack, her partner following until he was pulled back.

“Wait! Don’t hurt him!” Ivan pleaded, eyes wide. 

“He won’t feel the pain after Ladybug cleanses him, don’t worry. We’ll handle that akuma--”

“B-But he’s not an akuma! Hawkmoth did something to him! He’s still conscious in there, he’s not evil!”

Chat’s emerald eyes widened before he whipped his head around to where Ladybug was still fighting The Evillustrator, who was running more so than retaliating. The boy was pleading to be left alone, that he wasn’t possessed, but his lady was determined. He knew from experience just how stubborn Ladybug was when it came to her thinking someone was an akuma--Pire Noël hadn’t come from nowhere. Looking like an akuma they’d fought before definitely didn’t help.

“Ladybug, wait!!” he shouted, running over to pull Ladybug’s arm back. Nathan, who at this point had been lassoed up in it’s infinite string. The motion of the jerk lurched him forward, sending him sprawling to the ground with his face against the pavement. Chat winced sympathetically before turning back to his partner. “He isn’t akumatized,”

“Then explain--”

“We don’t know. Something happened to him, Hawkmoth did something, but he’s  _ not an akuma.  _ Ivan vouched for him.” the cat jabbed his thumb back towards where Ivan stood, apprehensively watching the interaction from the other side of the street.

Ladybug looked over at Ivan, then back over at Nathanael, who had tears eeking out of his eyes and scratches and a big red mark where he’d been kicked, which looked like it would bruise given the time. Akumas tended not to bruise. As soon as she realized her mistake, her hands flew to her mouth and she gasped at her actions. “Oh my god, Nathanael, I’m so sorry!”

“I-It’s okay…” he managed, looking up at the two. The spotted heroine tugged her yoyo a bit and it immediately unraveled and returned to her. Chat Noir offered him a hand, and Nathanael took it to get up.

“It’s not okay, I never should have assumed you were an akuma! And now you’re hurt, and--”

“It’s okay! I’ll be fine, really.” Nathanael breathed.

Ladybug continued on about how she should’ve been more careful, more considerate, but to be honest Nathanael had stopped listening. They were standing under a street light, the harsh yellow glow glinting off of her earrings. He could see the vibrant, almost glowing red of them, five black spots crossing the smooth surface in an ‘x’. And Chat Noir’s ring… the glowing green pawpads across the smooth black surface…

He didn’t just  _ want  _ them. He  _ needed  _ them. As everything went dark and he heard a voice telling him to  _ ‘Get the Miraculouses,’  _ he followed orders.

* * *

Ladybug barely managed to dodge when Nathanael lunged at her so suddenly. Her yoyo managed to snag onto the gutter of the building above them, and she quickly swung out of range. Chat Noir extended his staff to stop him from attacking again, but he just jumped onto it and ran towards him. He managed to twist it enough to shift his balance, but what he saw troubled him.

Nathanael’s eyes had gone completely black.

“Uh, Ladybug, something happened--” he warned before being knocked off his feet and across the street by a giant boxing glove. His back slammed into the storefront wall, and stars swam in his vision for a moment.

Ivan ran over to help him up, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better, I’ve been worse.” he managed, taking the hand to help himself up. “Had he been doing that with you?!”

“No, he was acting like actual Nathanael. I don’t know what happened.”

“This is weird…” He looked up to see Ladybug and the Evillustrator duking it out, the Evillustrator armed with a giant mallet and Ladybug struggling to get close enough. Chat Noir managed to extend his staff to trip up the akuma. Before anything could be done, he rolled over and was drawing on his tablet. An instant later, a giant net was shot in his direction, tripping him up and tangling him inside. When he was able to get ahold of his situation, he saw Ivan getting hit by one of his boxing gloves. The civilian slammed against the wall with a pained groan.

“Ivan!” he shouted. 

Suddenly, there was a flash of purple, and the net disappeared. Chat leaped to his feet and saw Ladybug standing, the broken pencil between her feet, ready to catch the akuma. 

It never came out. The pencil just mended itself back together. 

What the hell was Hawkmoth pulling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the story so far! I've never really written Ivan all that much, so I'm hoping he's decently in-character. He's going to be pretty big in this story.  
> Of course, if Hawkmoth is going to force a transformation onto someone, he's going to use it to his benefit. What else would you expect from the Angst Grape?  
> Comments are always welcome! Thank you guys for reading, and I hope you all have a wonderful day/night/whenever you're reading this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathanael wakes to aches and pains and injured friends, goes to Ivan's house, meets his parents, gets inventive, and goes to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the wait, but I finally finished Chapter 3!  
> This chapter is part of my Valentine's Day Fic Bomb - My stories The Disposables and Ain't Clowning Around are also getting updated tonight as well! I might also do a President's Day Drabble Dump, if I get enough finished in time.  
> This chapter was beta-ed by wishfulina on Tumblr! Thanks so much!  
> With that, I'll leave you to reading! I hope you enjoy it!

Why did his head hurt so bad…?

He blinked away stars as he tried to figure out where he was and what happened. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the mix of darkness and light, but once they did he regretted it. Ladybug was standing above him, confusion and wariness etched across her face even through the mask she wore. When he sat up, he saw Chat Noir helping up Ivan, who had a huge bruise forming over one eye.

“Are you alright?” Ladybug asked, her voice sounding too far away considering how close she was. He just nodded in response. Honestly, he really didn’t--he felt banged up and bruised and it hurt to move--but what was the use of saying otherwise? And, when he saw Chat’s hand glisten with a dark wet when he pulled back from Ivan, he realized there were others who needed more help than him. 

“Ivan!” he made his way to his feet and staggered across the street to help him. His legs were aching and burning, as if he’d run a marathon while he’d blacked out or something. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what had happened. And seeing Ivan’s injuries and Chat’s bruises--few as they were--he wasn’t sure he  _ wanted  _ to know.

His classmate looked up and offered him a wavering smile, swaying on his feet a bit, unsteady. “Nathanael! Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, you’re bleeding!”

“Maybe we should take you two to the hospital?” Chat began to offer.

“U-Uhm, no need. My dad is a doctor, and we aren’t too far from my place! I’m letting Nathan stay at my place for awhile, since his parents um… freaked.” Ivan said, looking over at him. Nathanael couldn’t help but feel a chill crawl up his spine at the memory of his family’s reactions to his transformation. They were probably worried about him… but would probably only freak out if he were to go back now. Maybe he’d call them after school tomorrow.

“If you’re sure you guys can make it. Want us to escort you?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We’re pretty close anyways, just a few more blocks and then we’re there.” 

“Alright, well, if you need us to lend you a helping paw, we’re out for a bit longer.” 

Ladybug let loose a groan. “Chat, seriously? Can the puns wait until  _ after  _ patrol?”

“Alright, my a-meow-zing Ladybug, these purrfect puns can wait until after paw-trol.”

“Alright, that’s it, we’re leaving. See you two around, let us know if anything new develops!” Ladybug said, grabbing Chat by the tail before casting off her yo-yo and swinging into the distance, dragging the leather-clad cat boy behind her. The two watched the heroes disappear in the night sky before looking at each other.

“...so, what exactly happened with you?” Ivan quietly asked.

“To be honest? I can’t remember. I just saw their miraculouses glowing, and then I blacked out. By the time I woke up, you were bleeding…”

“Oh. Well, uh… you kinda attacked Ladybug and Chat Noir… and one of your attacks hit me too. But I’ll be fine. Chat said it didn’t look too bad, probably nothing a little antiseptic and bandages can’t fix.”

“Why was he suggesting we go to the hospital then?”

“Just a precaution, I guess. Let’s just head home, the hospital is further away than the house is anyways.”

“Okay… Are you sure your parents aren’t gonna freak out on me?” 

“Oh, right, I have a plan. So, basically, when we get to my place, you’ll stand just outside the door. Then, I’ll explain  _ everything,  _ and once he’s cool with it, you’ll come in and everything will be fine!”

“What if he isn’t cool with it?” 

“...I’m pretty sure he’ll be cool with it.” 

“Alright, if you’re sure…”

* * *

Nathanael waited patiently as Ivan explained what had happened to his father inside the house. He heard their voices through the door, but couldn’t really pick out what all they were saying to each other. Things sounded calm, at the least, which was probably a good sign for him.  


“Are you an akuma?” he looked down to see a little girl holding a teddy bear to her chest, eyes wide as she stared up at him. She probably lived in the complex.

Now, it would probably be pretty hard to lie to some little kid--turns out, they were awfully perceptive. He, a purple-skinned teenager with multi-colored hair, wearing a skin-tight spandex suit, didn’t exactly look like a normal person. Unless he was at a really weird convention. But if he tried to explain what would happen, surely she’d just panic and set the entire complex on edge, if not getting him kicked out of his one chance at shelter for the night other than a homeless shelter somewhere. All he had to do was formulate a good lie to tell this kid, maybe he’d come from a costume party or--

“I’m a costume party.” 

The fuck???

The girl looked at him curiously. She tilted her head to the side before smiling. “Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone you’re an akuma, since you aren’t hurting anyone! Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uhm… sure.” he knelt down so he was her height (silently reveling in the fact that he was taller than  _ someone,  _ even if that someone was a third his age) and faced her. She stood on her tip-toes… and booped his nose. Then she ran off, giggling. Leaving behind a kneeling, confused akuma victim.

It was around then that the door clicked open and Ivan poked his head out. “Hey, Nathanael? You can come in now.”

“Oh… okay.” he stood and followed his friend in.

The apartment wasn’t much special. It was humble, and nice. The tints of yellow of the lamps around the room gave it a warm and cozy feel. There as a couch in front of the TV that looked like it would be pretty comfortable--at the least, he wouldn’t find one of his brother’s toys digging into his spine. It would be a nice change of pace.

Ivan’s father’s eyes widened when he came in. Maybe he thought Ivan had been joking at first. But he adjusted quickly, which was a welcomed deviation from the norm so far. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. 

“Well, I--wow, I--wow.” he said. “Nathanael, was it? Nice to meet you, though it’s a shame it was in a situation like this. How exactly did--”

“Dad, I’m still bleeding, can I get bandages?” Ivan interrupted. “We can go through formalities over dinner, we’re starving and also bleeding.”

“Well, I mean, I’m not that hungry--” Nathanael’s lie was betrayed by his rumbling stomach. Ivan nudged him with an elbow.

“Ha.”

“R-Right! Ivan, can you go get the first aid kit from the bathroom while I take out dinner?” his father asked. Ivan nodded and headed down a small hallway. “Nathanael, go on ahead and have a seat, find whatever you want to watch on TV while I take care of Ivan.”

“Hm… Alright. Thank you, Monsieur Bruel.” Nathanael nodded, even though Mr. Bruel was turned away at this point, and went to the couch. After figuring out the remote control, he started flicking through the channels. There wasn’t much interesting on, so he just settled on the news.

Ivan returned with the bandages and sat at the kitchen table. His father washed his hands before setting to work. Nathanael glanced over, and couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had attacked him, after all, and they were both being so kind to him even still. His parents, if asked to let someone who had attacked him stay the night, would laugh and slam the door in their face--even if it was a classmate. 

“Do you like fish and chips?” Mister Bruel asked. “It’s what I made, but I’m sure I can find something else for you if you want.”

“Oh, no worries, I love fish and chips,” Nathanael smiled. Mister Bruel nodded and went back to work, carefully applying gauze and antiseptic to Ivan’s wound. 

So far, there was no news about his appearance. It seems Ladybug and Chat Noir were keeping quiet. It seemed his family was too.

About thirty minutes into dealing with injuries and making food, the door clicked open. Nathan turned to see another man, bigger and shorter, coming in with a few grocery bags and a briefcase. Ivan looked up from his phone and smiled a little. 

“Hey, pops,” he greeted.

“Hey, kid--who’s this?” the man had turned to see what was on the TV and had spotted him. He was wary, but seemed pretty calm for seeing a spandex-wearing purple-skinned domino-masked kid in his house.

“Oh, you didn’t see my text? That’s Nathanael, one of Ivan’s friends from school.”

“...pretty sure that’s an akuma, Matt,”

“Well, y-yes, and no,” Nathanael piped up, gesturing with his hands. “I was upset after school today, and Hawkmoth tried to akumatize me, but I said no, and then… yeah.”

“...so you’re an akuma, but not an akuma at the same time? Where’re ya sleeping, kid?”

“Um. I guess the couch?” 

“Oh, no you’re not. You can stay in the guest room. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows,” he said, heading further into the house. Nathanael stood and followed, insisting that he could just stay on the couch and they didn’t have to bother with getting the guest room ready. He was hearing none of it, however, and before he knew it he was carrying a pillow and blankets and was standing in the guest room.

He set the sheets down, about to start situating himself into the bed before noticing his reflection in a mirror. He was still ‘akumatized,’ of course, but his face had some mild road rash on one side, and a big ugly reddish mark on the other. There were a few small tears in his clothes from all the roughhousing, staining small little spots of his suit red. He should probably take care of those. But first, maybe he should see if he could actually take this thing off…

He checked himself over once more in the mirror, trying to see if there was any sort of zipper. For awhile, it was beginning to look as if he was stuck in spandex until they could figure out what was going on with him, until he decided to try a trick and see if it would work. 

Nathanael sat on the floor, noticing a few scrapes and scuffs on his legs as well. He took his tablet and his stylus and began drawing his outfit, before adding a small indiscreet line down the center with a tiny zipper under the fold in the fabric. As he drew the line, he felt his costume shift and meld itself around the new zipper. His experiment was a success; if he could zip his clothes off, he could use the bathroom, or take a shower. Hell, he could even change clothes. That would be nice; it would certainly add a bit of normalcy back into his life, after the little plot twist Hawkmoth had thrown his way. 

“Nathanael! Dinner’s ready when you are!” Ivan’s father called. Nathanael toyed with the zipper for a little bit, making sure the little line he had drawn on the tablet actually functioned well enough to use, before zipping himself back up and heading out to the kitchen.

“Hey, Nath,” Ivan nodded his way as he sat down after fixing his plate. Ivan and his other father’s plates were filled with a hearty helping of the dinner course of the day, making Nathanael feel as if his plate wasn’t filled up enough. But he wasn’t all that hungry, surprisingly. The action of today made him tired, but simultaneously his nerves about the whole situation twisted his stomach into knots. 

“So, how’s school been treating you two?” ‘Dad’ asked, looking up after he finished setting his plate and drink down.

“Chem sucks,” Ivan sighed. Nathanael groaned sympathetically.

“Same here,” he agreed. “Mrs. Mendeleiv is out for blood and taking names. It’s like she has a vendetta against me,”

“Honestly, I’m pretty sure she does,” Ivan chuckled a bit. “To be fair, though, you do draw a lot in class,”

“I mean, I take notes! Sometimes. But they never really help with anything! If I take notes and study, I fail. If I don’t take notes or study, I still fail. What’s the point of doing more work for the same results?”

“It would probably get Madame ‘This is clearly why you’re failing science’ off your case a little bit.”

“Eh. Maybe.”

“So how exactly did all of this happen?” ‘Pops’ suddenly asked. “Y’know, the…” he gestured at the entirety of Nathanael’s existence. 

The akuma just sighed. The more he told the story, and the longer he had to think about it, the more it felt like he had been… shallow earlier that day. His father was always telling him that he was too emotional, but this just seemed to prove him right. He’d never heard of or seen anyone else get akumatized twice on two completely different occasions. Yet here he was. All of this over a dumb sketchbook; he could buy a replacement for maybe five or so Euros. Granted, he had worked so hard on all of those drawings, but was the frustration and anger over that really worth what he was going through now?

That didn’t matter. Ivan’s parents had asked him a question. 

“Well… Chloe ruined one of my sketchbooks after class while I was in the bathroom. And I got upset, and… Y’know…”

The two parents nodded sympathetically. “As far as I’ve heard, Chloe’s done that to a lot of people…”

“If she keeps this up, she’s going to get hurt,” Pops stated with a grumble.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t,” Ivan shrugged. At that, they went back to their meals, relatively quiet. The air was tense, awkward, but who could blame them? There was an akuma sitting at the dinner table with them. To save them from the discomfort, Nathanael quickly scarfed down his food--despite his displeased stomach--and set his plate on the counter before going to the shower.

He found little bruises and scrapes on his arms and legs when he took off his suit, but he was also pleased to discover that yes, there  _ was  _ underwear under this thing. It just wasn’t his boxer-briefs. They were briefs, if even that, more like a speedo.

He hated speedos with a passion.

After grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet and figuring out how to turn on the shower, he peeled off the rest of his clothes and jumped in the shower. Which was a mistake, because the water not only was too cold, but it also made his cuts sting and it hurt like  _ hell.  _ Weren’t akumas supposed to have a higher pain tolerance? Where the hell was  _ that  _ when he wanted it? Didn’t matter. He turned up the temp and washed himself off, trying to see if he could get everything in order in his own head.

So he’d been akumatized after school, ran out of his own house, been attacked by Ladybug and Chat Noir and attacked them  _ back  _ shortly after, then had dinner with Ivan’s two fathers and now here he was, in his friends shower with purple skin, trying to see if he could loosen up his hair enough to wear it down. The latter-part of the day had certainly been action-packed, and he was surprised his muscles weren’t aching as much from the two fights as he had really expected. Granted, they ached a  _ little,  _ but nothing the hot shower wasn’t fixing.

Eventually he decided he’d spent enough time in the shower, and had gotten his hair as loose as he could, so he stepped out and toweled himself off. A glance in the mirror revealed that, no, his skin’s new color hadn’t been washed away. A peek at his towel showed that neither had his new hair color. But at least it was a bit looser--maybe with some vigorous combing and flat-ironing, it would look  _ almost  _ normal.

Nathanael sighed as he looked at his reflection. He hated everything he saw there, from the road rash on the left side of his face to the reddish-purplish area on his right, to his purple skin, everything. He didn’t want to  _ be  _ here, he didn’t want to be  _ this! _ It all seemed unfair. But he could make it better in any way he could.

He snagged his tablet off the sink and sat on the toilet seat, beginning to draw little band-aids of different sizes. Though they weren’t exactly perfect, a little crooked on the edges and the curves not quite even, they sufficed well enough for him to use them. He could just put on his pjamas over them--

Pyjamas. He’d totally forgotten to get any sort of pyjamas. And he really didn’t want to put that suit back on--it was dirty, and had blood on it, and he had  _ just  _ showered.

Poking his head out the door to see if anyone was closeby to witness his plight, he instead found a small stack of clothes and rubber bands right by the door, with a note. He grabbed them and brought them into the room with him before reading the note.

We didn’t see you grab any pajamas, 

So we brought you some of Ivan’s old clothes!

_ Matt _

PS: You’re probably a bit too small for them, 

So we brought some rubber bands too.

Well, that was convenient. 

They were right, too, about the clothes. The shirt was practically twice as big as he was, and the pants wouldn’t stay on without the rubber bands around the waist and thigh areas. He also rubber banded off the ends of the shirt sleeves, because every so-often the shirt would end up slipping towards one side and nearly sliding fully off of him. 

Nathanael grabbed his suit and tossed it in the washing machine, after ‘Pops’ asked him to, before going to the guest room. He set out the sheets and the blankets and shut off the light, trying to relax enough to fall asleep. Eventually, the weight of the world seemed to melt away, and his eyelids grew heavy, and he was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter was kind of short. At least it feels like this-it definitely feels way short compared to how much time I put into it. The next chapter may or may not be longer, who knows? Probably will be though.  
> For those who may be interested, I do art streams on Twitch usually at least once a week, on the weekends. If you want to hop in, they usually start around 6:30-7:30, and I'll be painting a drawing I did of Nathanael's Vulpes costume from my fic, "Ain't Clowning Around!" [ Here's a link! ](https://www.twitch.tv/anipwrites)  
> Follow [ wishfulina](wishfulina.tumblr.com)  
> Or follow me at [anipwrites](http://anipwrites.tumblr.com/), or my art-only blog [anip-art!](http://anip-art.tumblr.com/)  
> Happy Valentines Day! I hope you have a good day, and I'll see you next update!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night after being akumatized is never fun... especially when you're still akumatized.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to ANGST WEEK  
> To be completely honest, I think this might be the angstiest chapter I've written for this story since the first chapter. I need to keep up the angst ante, because its tagged as angst and when people read it they are expecting angst. I am sorry for those of you who were expecting angst and weren't receiving, but I'm pretty sure this chapter and the next are angstier than the last two. Not You Don't Know Me levels of angst, but I put more effort into keeping it angsty.  
> I'm actually really proud of this chapter anyways, at least the first part for sure. If you like it as well, feel free to leave a comment!  
> Thanks to my betas for making this a chapter worth being proud of!  
> Also I might be writing a new angst story as well, bottom notes will present more info on that.  
> But yeah, I seem to always update this around some holiday. So... Happy Belated Easter, Happy Earth Day, and Happy Angst Week?  
> But for now, I will leave you to the story!

_ Nathanael opened his eyes to find himself in a dark, cold room. He looked around and found hundreds--no, thousands of white butterflies stretched across the room. Some were resting on his arms and legs and chest, one on his nose. They seemed to glow dimly as they shifted around, their shimmering wings making delicate patterns across the floor from time to time before they all shifted. The one on his nose would open its wings, blocking his vision, and when it closed them once more they were in another shape. It was calming to watch… _

_ He stood up, stretching himself out as all the drowsiness leached out of him, and took a deep breath before looking around. Everything was dark, save for the glittering white butterflies. How could he see the butterflies, if there was no other light? Were they glowing in the dark, or was there some small light source he just hadn’t found? Were the butterflies even real? _

_ The butterflies all shifted at once. Their glowing glittering wings dazzled his eyes for a moment before they stilled once more. He took a step forward, and the closest butterflies fluttered into the air a moment before quietly landing around him. He kept taking slow, careful steps through the crowd of butterflies, until he found himself standing in the center. The patterns seemed only all the more delicate from this view, the fluttering of their wings forming ripples and rays throughout the mass of white.  _

_ One butterfly gently floated up above the rest and glided towards him on the still air. He held out a hand in the darkness, and the insect perched in his palms. It’s small legs tickled against his bare skin, and-- _

_ Bare skin. He took a close look at his hand, and the glow coming off of the butterfly’s wings provided him just enough light to see the palm of his hand, just that. No gloves, no spandex, nothing. Not a single trace of the Evillustrator on him. A gasp escaped him before he began laughing. It was gone, it was gone! He was  _ himself _ again! His laughter became excited whoops that echoed throughout the cavernous room, scaring some of the butterflies into a fluttering cloud before they quickly settled down. Emotions still bubbling inside him, he lifted his hands so he could see the butterfly at eye-level. _

_ “Hello, there,” he whispered, a laugh still at the edge of his voice. The butterfly opened and closed its wings, almost as if in greeting, before it lifted off his hands and decided to land on his nose. A giggle escaped him as he lowered his now-empty hands to his sides. “That tickles!” _

_ Each time the butterfly opened and closed its wings, Nathan found himself looking at a new pattern on the floor around him. He could have stood there for hours, watching the butterflies shift behind the scaly curtains of insect wings, and have been perfectly content. The silence, even though it caused any and every sound to echo, was comforting. After such a stressful afternoon, he was grateful to be here and himself again (just thinking about being back to normal made him laugh giddily again, scaring the butterfly off its perch a moment before it dared come back down). He scarcely even questioned why he was here, or how. He didn’t really  _ want _ to leave. _

_ The butterfly opened its wings once more, and Nathanael prepared himself to see what else the butterflies would create. When the wings closed, however, it was not just a pattern… but a word. _

_ ‘Run.’ _

_ A cold air suddenly swept through the room, sending all of the butterflies up in a frenzy. The one on his nose lifted into the air, and the ones that had settled on his arms and legs scattered. He scrambled to get his bearings as the butterflies’ wings began to hit against his face, but through the glistening wings he saw a foreboding figure approaching. So he ran away. _

_ But he didn’t get very far. The man had re-appeared before him. It was Hawkmoth--shrouded in shadow, but the air he held revealed him before any light to the eye could. Before he could plead with the man for his life, the pointed end of a purple staff flew towards his face, right between the eyes-- _

“Aah!!” Nathanael gasped, waking with a scream. First his hands flew to his head, to check for injuries, but he quickly realized that it was all just a dream. A horrible, torturous dream that he prayed he’d never have to have again. Perhaps he should just go back to sleep and maybe--

His body shuddered at the thought of sleeping again, and an oncoming sense of dread loomed overhead. He couldn’t help but feel like, if he were to close his eyes longer than a second, all he would see was that sharpened staff aimed for the kill, aimed or him so quickly there was no avoiding it. He wasn’t sure if his heart wouldn’t be able to take it again.

The bedside clock, a cold glowing red in the darkness, revealed that the time was only 3 AM. It was going to be several hours before school even thought about starting. But he didn’t quite want to go back to sleep, of course, and face the nightmares again… He turned on the nightstand lamp, pulled out his tablet, and drew. 

It was around 4 AM when he heard a quiet knock on his door.

“Um… Come in…” he said warily, setting aside his tablet and pen. His nerves were on high alert after that dream, even now--he half-expected Hawkmoth himself to step inside the guest room.

But no, instead Ivan slipped in through the cracked door, closing it after him. “Hey.”

“What are you doing up this late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” the boy sighed. “You?”

“I couldn’t sleep either. Kept having bad dreams,” Nathanael replied. They sat in silence for a moment before Ivan broke it with a question.

“So, the Language Arts test is today,”

“Oh…” Nathanael laid back and stared at the ceiling. He probably  _ should _ go take that test, before he forgot what all was going to be on it (more than he already had, that is), but… he didn’t want to face the public eye again. Because going to school would mean walking, and walking would mean people staring and screaming, and that didn’t even include what would happen when he came into class. How would they all react? How would  _ Chloe _ react, she was the cause of this mess and he was damn sure she was gonna mock and tease at him about this all day!

But, honestly? Fuck it. He needed to take this damn test.

“I suppose I should,” he groaned. “As long as you promise to save me from Chloe.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Ivan nodded. “Does that mean you’re gonna go to bed soon?”

“Huh… I’m not sure I should…”

“...would it help if I stayed in here with you?”

Nathan hesitated, thinking about the offer a moment before smiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Okay, cool. Let me go get some pillows and blankets real quick.” Ivan stood and stepped back out of the room. Nathanael sighed and picked up his tablet, drawing a small butterfly. 

It seemed to peel itself off of the screen and flutter through the air before landing on his pencil, wings gently closing. With each tiny movement it made, the glowing white of its scales seemed to pulse just a little brighter. He twisted the pencil and watched it crawl back to the top. Then it took off and laid on his nose, opening and closing its wings. The more it continued, the more he felt tense and afraid, as if any moment Hawkmoth would materialize from thin air and beat him to a bloody pulp. Each time the butterfly opened its wings, he half expected them to close and reveal a staff flying towards his face. 

So when Ivan came back in, it was both relieving and quite frightening.

“Ivan!! I didn’t hear you come in!” Nathanael shouted, jumping back into a sitting position. Ivan blinked, eyes wide, as the butterfly flew off his nose and around the room in frenzied circles.

“Oh, sorry. Did I scare you?”

Nathanael laid back as he tried to calm his thudding heart. “No, no, not too much…” the butterfly landed back on his nose suddenly, and he damn near screamed.

“...where’d that butterfly come from?”

“Drew it… kinda want it gone, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s a living thing… erasing it would sort of be killing it, wouldn’t it?”

His classmate was silent a moment before he spoke up again. “I… I don’t think so? I mean, it’s just a drawing from your tablet. But… if it helps, I’ll do it.”

“...no, no… I’ve got it.” he sat up one more time, reaching in the dark for his tablet. The butterfly flew onto the blanket and puttered around. He grasped his pen and started erasing the butterfly. The creature continued walking in small circles until there was nothing left of it.

Somehow, it felt like he had lost something with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I really need to work on updating this and my other stuff more often, and next Friday I have off so I'll definitely be working on writing The Living Nightmare, Ain't Clowning Around, and The Disposables around this time a lot! And also the several other ideas running around in this skull of mine!  
> Speaking of, that Angst idea I mentioned way up there? Four words; Evil Le Paon Nathaniel.  
> Hope you guys have a wonderful day, and I'll hopefully see you again next update!  
> Follow [ wishfulina](wishfulina.tumblr.com)  
> Follow [ Flautist4ever](flautist4ever.tumblr.com)  
> Follow [ zoozoocala](https://zoozoocala.tumblr.com/)  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel grabs some clothes and school supplies from his house and has a very... interesting trip to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry I didn't publish too much this summer--I didn't get as much done as I had hoped. But here's Chapter 5 of The Living Nightmare!  
> I hope you all enjoy it! I got a bunch of reviews (across platforms) on the last chapter saying it wasn't really """angsty"""" enough--this chapter isn't too angsty either, I suppose, but I am trying my best. Let me know what you think!

He woke up early in the morning. He’d had a hard time sleeping anyways, so it wasn’t as grueling of a task to get himself out of his slumber as usual. He even ended up waking earlier than everyone else in the house. A glance at the clock told him it was only around 6:30-- far earlier than he usually needed to wake up for school. Maybe he could go out and buy himself a decent breakfast after he packed.

As soon as he sat up and the warmth of the blankets left him, he realized that there was absolutely nothing to pack. He’d brought nothing with him except for his cell phone--not even the charger. A sigh escaped him as he realized that, if he really wanted to get much of anything done today, he’d have to go home and get his stuff.

_ “Mommy, it’s a monster!! I’m scared, Mommy!!” _

Nathanael physically winced when he remembered how his brother had reacted to the sight of him. Absolutely  _ terrified _ of him, and he’d always played as the brave one. At this rate, there was no way he could just knock on the front door and ask for his things--not without causing another panic. No, maybe it was best if he just… snuck in. 

He grabbed his tablet off the floor and strapped it back to his arm, opened the window, and stood on the edge of the sill. Some dark part of him taunted him, telling him that this whole ‘half-akumatized’ thing could be over with if he just let himself fall from here. But the ledge wasn’t high enough--at the most, he’d probably break an arm or a leg and end up prolonging the whole thing. Plus, he probably shouldn’t attempt suicide in the first place. Someone might get upset.

So rather than falling, he drew himself a jetpack and went flying back to his house. When he got to the window for his room, the place looked more or less exactly as he had left it. Save for the fact that the window wasn’t half-erased anymore, and--was that a candle on his desk? A lit candle sat in a dish beside his sketchbook, the tiny flame bouncing slightly in the air conditioning. It looked almost like a mourning shrine--

_ ‘I’m not  _ dead _ ,’  _ he couldn’t help but think to himself.  _ ‘So why are they acting like it?’ _

Or did they want him dead? Would they rather he be dead, rather pretend he was dead, than have him look like  _ this?  _ To be honest, he couldn’t blame them. He almost wanted to be dead as well.

Whatever. He’d deal with that later. For now, Nathanael set about erasing a portion of the bedroom window before stepping in. He grabbed his backpack, some pencils, and a comb before doing his best to step out quietly. 

Suddenly, he considered--what if he tried changing clothes? Maybe if he weren’t  _ dressed _ like an akuma, strangers on the street wouldn’t notice him on quickly. A random guy in a skin suit stood out pretty well, especially now-a-days. He opened his closet door and set to work.

However, he quickly realized that not much really complimented purple skin, or hid it. With his new appearance, he didn’t look great in much of anything--all of his shirts were so bright, it only made the purple show up more. He nearly screamed his frustrations several times, but had to remind himself that he  _ really _ didn’t want to wake up Isaiah or his parents.

_ ‘Fuck it,’  _ he decided, tossing shoes, a dark hoodie and some jeans into his bookbag.  _ ‘Maybe wearing some normal clothes would at least make me look a bit more normal,’  _ with that done, he closed the door and turned to the window to leave. 

A soft breeze blew into the new opening, causing the little flame to waver a moment before returning to its resting standstill. With a quiet scoff, he blew out the candle and flew off into the Paris sky once more. 

By the time he arrived back at Ivan’s house, his classmate was already awake. When he touched down inside the room, his friend turned around, eyes wide.

“Whoa. Where’d you even go?” he asked.

“I went home, to go get my stuff for school,” Nathanael shrugged, slinging his bookbag to the floor. 

“I could’ve gone with you, if you wanted,” 

“I know. Wanted to do it alone. But thanks.” he opened the top zipper and fished out the clothes, beginning to slip them on over his ‘hero’ suit. 

“...alright. Well, I’m going to go see if Pops is making breakfast.” Ivan hesitated a moment before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Which was just perfect, because it gave Nathanael plenty of time to stew.

About twenty minutes of stewing and dressing later, he was basically ready for school. His hair, he determined, wasn’t going to get much looser than it already had yesterday night. It still looked like a cluster of paintbrushes--just paintbrushes that had lost their form a bit over time. Asides from that, with his new disguise, he could  _ nearly _ forget that he was a purple-skinned freak who could fall under Hawkmoth’s control any time he lays eye on some damn jewelry.

Ivan knocked on the door. “Hey, we’ve got bacon and eggs in the kitchen.”

Nathanael, to be honest, wasn’t very hungry at the moment. His nerves were still getting to him--the idea of walking to school and having to stay there for hours on end, all while being…  _ this _ , seemed just as horrifying as jumping out of a plane not knowing if the pack on your back had a parachute or a pair of shoes. Anxiety was eating away at him, making his stomach do flips--the last thing he needed right now was some food in there. But… wouldn’t it be rude to  _ not _ eat?

So, instead of rejecting the food, he just let out a sigh and said “I’ll be out in a second.” maybe he could get out with just eating a little bit of bacon or something.

However, as soon as he stepped out of the room and smelled the food, he was absolutely starving. His stomach eased, and for a moment, it felt like everything was going to be okay. But two glasses of orange juice, five strips of bacon, and a plate of eggs later, they had to leave. And it was all over too soon.

See, you can do a lot of stuff to try and go unnoticed. Sitting behind Ivan in class was always a good strategy, and so was wearing hoodies in most situations. Being in a crowd, as uncomfortable as it was, worked pretty well. But none of those really work if you have purple skin and a giant butterfly-shape mask on your face that screams to the world  _ ‘Hey, look at me, I’m a servant of Hawkmoth.’ _ Granted, if there was a convention going on that day, then maybe he wouldn’t have seemed so strange on the streets of Paris. But, it was the streets of Paris in the morning--not many people were out and about yet, and anyone who was got a pretty good look at him. If they didn’t see his hair, they saw his skin.

Some people took pictures. Some people rushed past and whispered into their phones, or dialing three short beeps that could  _ only _ be 112. A child called out  _ ‘look, maman, he’s purple!’  _ and his mother picked him up and ran across the street. Cars stopped, nearly driving off road. A woman screamed once and ran away in hysterics. And this was all before he even go to the school.

When they finally arrived at the College de Francois-Dupont, he felt himself freeze. Ivan, once he realized his classmate was no longer walking with him, turned back.

“Nathan? Everything okay?” he asked, jogging back to meet him.

“I… I don’t think this is such a good idea.” Nathanael mumbled, looking at the crowd of students on the steps. “Everyone’s just gonna…”

“Come on, it’ll be fine. I’m here for you.” Ivan gestured to the school. But Nathan’s legs still felt like lead. All he wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry, until everything went dark and he didn’t have to deal with this anymore. He just wanted this to all be a dream, to wake up in his bed, or drooling all over his school desk. He wished he could just  _ go back _ , but he couldn’t. This wasn’t some dumb nightmare from staying up too late. This was a sick nightmare of a reality that he had to live through, and he wanted out  _ so bad _ but he just  _ couldn’t. _

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, lifting his head in hopes of feeling some kind of warmth from the sun. He was just cold, had been for a bit. Not even the thickest jacket could keep him warm anymore. Nevertheless, he opened his eyes again and found the strength in him to keep going.

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right. I still have to take that dumb test, anyways.” he sighed, walking up the stairs. No one even noticed him walking up, and he was beginning to hope that the rest of the day would go off without a hitch.

That was dumb.

The instant he headed to his locker, the room went quiet. Heads turned and people stared, eyes wide. Alya Cesaire, head reporter of the Ladyblog, came over, phone in hand. His peers took the opportunity to run out the locker room through the other door.

“Are you a new akuma? What’s your goal, what’s your name, what are your powers?” Alya asked, eyes bright with excitement as she tapped a button on her screen--surely he was being streamed across the internet.

“Alya, it’s me.” he sighed, looking away. Her jaw slacked and it took her a moment to get her bearings together.

“ _ Nathaniel?! _ ”

“Could you, maybe, not shout out my name across the internet?” 

“How’d you get reakumatized, I didn’t know that was possible! Why is your outfit different, and--why didn’t you freak out when I used your name?”

He couldn’t help but sigh. He really didn’t want to have to go through this again, and especially not with who knows  _ how _ many people watching. And Alya certainly didn’t show any signs of letting up, or lowering her camera.

“Alya, can you at least turn the camera off? He’s had a rough enough time already,” Ivan said, hands in his pockets.

“Well,  _ clearly! _ What happened to you, man?! The people want to know!”

“I think he needs some space,” Marinette said, closing her locker and heading over. Nathan had barely even realized she was in there. She walked over and lowered the phone in Alya’s hand, reminding her that it was time to turn the damn thing off. Then she smiled at him, just a little bit too sweetly. “So, what  _ did _ happen, Nathaniel? I didn’t know it was possible to be reakumatized…”

Ugh,  _ Marinette _ . She was nice, of course she was, but she’d been being a bit  _ too nice _ recently. Ever since his akumatization (his first one, he realized, considering his current situation) she’d been nothing but sweet to him. At least, when she talked to him. Whenever she did, she was all smiles, all compliments, nothing else. A day ago, he would have relished in the attention. But now… it was getting a bit stale. 

And now, here she was, asking Alya to stop pestering him before doing the same herself. Granted, without a phone streaming to thousands of viewers, but still. He was  _ not in the mood _ , why did no one understand that?!

An image of lit candles on his desk came to mind.

“I  _ don’t want to talk about it, _ ” he growled, his hands curling into fists. “I’m having a hard enough time, having to tell everyone how the hell I got this way and dealing with their screaming and attention. Just let me get to my locker and  _ leave me alone _ .”

Marinette’s eyes widened, and she looked just mildly hurt, but Nathaniel couldn’t find it in himself to care. He forced his way past her and to his own locker, yanking out the lock and slinging it open to dump his books in there. 

“Hey!” Alya said sharply, storming over to him. “Nobody talks to my girl like that!”

The Evillustrator turned to look at her, eyes cold, smirking. “I just  _ did. _ So deal with it.” he closed the door and stalked out the locker room, pushing his way through the group of kids waiting outside for it to be safe to go in there again. 

“Urgh, that boy, I’m gonna--”

“Something’s up,” Ivan finally said.

“Yeah, something’s up! Where’d he stick that dumb object, up his ass?! Because I’m gonna go knock him out for--”

“No, no, no. I’ll go talk to him.” before Alya could say anything else, Ivan rushed out after his classmate. Alya made her way to follow, but Marinette held her back.

Ivan found Nathan sitting at his desk, hands flexing and eyes targeting the whiteboard in a glare so intense it looked as if he was boring a hole through the wall with lasers. No one else was inside--the door clicked behind him softly, but it seemed to echo throughout the room. The icy glare was directed to him, but Ivan felt no fear. He walked up the stairs to face him directly.

“Nathaniel, I understand you’re upset--”

“Why won’t  _ anyone _ just leave it alone! Why can’t everyone just ignore my existence like usual?!”

“...possibly because you’re purple.”

“Well, I know, but--”

“Look. this is a new situation to them--”

“We’ve been dealing with akumas for almost six months now, what do you  _ mean _ , it’s a new--”

“Don’t you think I realize that?” at Ivan’s outburst, Nathan suddenly grew quiet, letting him continue. “Look, six months ago, people were looking at me strangely too. People were freaking out, people were getting in my face asking questions. Yeah, it's been six months, but none of us have ever experienced an akuma who still acts like, y’know,  _ themself.  _ Let alone an akuma who’s in their right mind and is walking down the hall to school like nothing’s wrong.”

“I’m not trying to act like nothing’s wrong, I--”

“The point is--this is new to all of us. And it's going to take some getting used to. We all just have to be patient. Okay?”

To be quite honest, Nathaniel felt like this was all being downplayed. Sure, this was new to everyone, but  _ they  _ weren't the ones people were running away from and screaming at and pestering. Why couldn’t people just realize that he was having a pretty bad experience and stop bugging him about it? But it wasn't like anyone understood that. So, instead of arguing, he just nodded his head and rested his head on the desk, waiting for class to start.

More of his classmates started to trickle into the room, each with varied reactions to his appearance. Mme. Bustier nearly dropped her papers when she saw him, but said nothing asides from a terse greeting. Some of his classmates, like Rose, tried to ask him what happened--something which he really wasn’t in the mood for. But most of them were already notified about what happened--apparently, they had Alya’s blog on notifications. They were mostly either awkwardly quiet, relenting to staring at him from across the room, or gossiping about it where he could  _ quite literally hear them, thanks for being subtle, Chloe. _

Apparently, Alya had  _ not  _ stopped streaming the encounter when Marinette asked. So now her entire Internet following saw him be, what was apparently being described as, a jackass. They didn’t understand what this was like, didn’t  _ care _ to try and understand how  _ he _ was feeling about this. Sure, maybe the words he had said hurt her, but  _ he _ was hurting. But no one wanted to try and feel his pain--try and truly understand what  _ he _ was going through. If only they’d just--

The bell rang, yanking him abruptly from his thoughts, and class began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If you want to ask a question, feel free to leave a comment or send me an ask on my tumblr!  
> Also!!!! The Disposables should be getting updated sometime next week, and if you like Lucio from Overwatch, keep an eye out--something might be coming out next week too!  
> Hope you all have a wonderful day!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathaniel manages to find brief solace in his classmates before realizing just how much Hawkmoth's curse has taken from his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's been a really long time, and knowing me and my issues with publishing on a semi-regular basis, that's probably the case. My deepest apologies! I got stuck and then senior year started so I was stuck ~but with pressure~ and then NaNoWriMo came around and I was focusing on my OC story a lot. But excuses are just excuses and don't make up for keeping y'all waiting for so long. I hope to publish chapters a lot now that Christmas break is coming around, if I can pry myself away from my family long enough to type something out.  
> All that aside, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

There was an elephant in the room, and that elephant was going by the name Nathaniel Kurtzberg. 

Absolutely positively no one knew how to handle this. Hell, even Mme. Bustier didn’t know how to handle it. Sure, she continued teaching class anyways, but she refused to look at the right side of the room at all, or the top few rows. It was almost as if she was afraid of accidentally locking eyes with… the akuma.

No one was paying attention to the lesson either. Everyone knew no one was paying attention to the lesson. Sure, they were all looking straight ahead, but no one was truly listening to the words coming out of Mme. Bustier’s mouth. They were all fidgeting where they sat, shifting under the perceived glare of the Evillustrator boring into the back of their heads.

If anyone had it the worst, it would be Lila Rossi. She was his deskmate, and had to sit right next to him. He couldn’t avoid looking at the akuma and still be subtle about it. So eventually she just stopped trying.

Nathaniel  _ hated _ this.

Class was torture. He knew everyone was thinking about him, he knew that everyone would be talking about him the instant they got the chance. He missed being invisible. He wanted to go back to just being ‘that kid who sits in the back of the class that no one cares about,’ but no. Hawkmoth had cursed him with an unhealthy dose of ‘talk of the town.’

Class ended before it was time for them to switch classes, leaving them time to talk. For a good two minutes, everyone was dead silent, as if every word they uttered would be heard by Hawkmoth, and he’d do  _ something _ . For all they knew, Nathaniel had become a new pair of ears to the evil mastermind behind the magical transformations they’d all gone through months before. 

Lila was the first to dare turn his way. 

“Are you ready for the test?” she asked, eyes directed to his hands rather than his face. But it was a welcome start, compared to what he’d had all day.

“N-no, not really. But it’s really the only reason I came today, so I kinda gotta be.”

“Hey, next time you consider coming to school? Stay home,” Chloe said, sending him a look filled with a strange mix of her usual cockiness and… fear. 

“Chloe,” Mme. Bustier protested, but didn’t really tried to stop her. For a good minute, no one did.

“Leave him alone, Chloe,” Marinette said.

“What, when he’s like  _ this? _ ” 

“Yes. Leave him alone.”

Slowly, the class began to start whispering amongst themselves. Lila had turned away at this point, choosing to reapply makeup in her compact. But Alix came over.

“Yo, Nathan. What happened to you?” she asked. Nathaniel would have groaned, but Alix wasn’t exactly known for her tactfulness.

“Chloe and Hawkmoth work all too well together.” he sighed. 

“Ah,” she didn’t even ask what Chloe had  _ done _ , just understood that Chloe Bourgeois's entire existence was a breeding ground for akumas. “So, now you’re purple and all? You actually look pretty cool.”

“I dunno. Haven’t taken time to consider how it might be cool, kinda sucks on my end.”

“I… can understand that. People been freaking out?”

“Everyone, I think you mean. Except Iv--well, no, he freaked out too, but Ivan’s letting me stay at his place.”

“What about your parents?” Rose asked from across the aisle. “And your brother? Do they know you’re with Ivan?”

“No.”

“Don’t you think they’re worried?”

“I mean, maybe? I just can’t find it in me to care. They didn’t chase me out, exactly, but my brother started calling me a monster, and I took that as a sign to leave.”

“Oh, dude, that  _ sucks! _ ” Kim mumbled.

“Do you have any way of fixing it?” Lila asked.

“Not that I know of. Kind of looks like I’m stuck like this until Hawkmoth gets bored with me,” Nathan mumbled.

“We were actually hoping to find one though! Uh, I was actually thinking, after school, Max, Alya, do you guys wanna come over to my place so we can maybe figure this out?” Ivan blurted out suddenly, looking at each student as he addressed them. 

“I should have time, I suppose,” Max said, adjusting his glasses.

“I suppose I can help…” Alya muttered, sending Nathaniel a glare. Apparently, she still hadn’t forgiven him for what he said? But he couldn’t much find it in him to care.

Eventually, the bell rang, drawing everyone out of the room and to their next class. They only had their core classes together, so they’d be going their separate ways. And Nathaniel quickly realized he’d be without Ivan, or anyone else who seemed to have even the slightest chance of understanding his plight.

But at least he was going to art.

At the sound of the door opening, everyone’s heads turned, as usual. But the gasps and whispers  _ weren’t _ part of the routine, or everyone flinching back as he walked past. A few people shuddered, slipping on jackets or zipping up the ones they already had on. The teacher avoided eye contact. Nathaniel sighed and took his position in the desk to the back.

His tablemates, who usually didn’t much acknowledge his existence any, quickly grabbed their things and moved away. Nathaniel was alone, isolated--he used to  _ want _ this. But he didn’t want it this way. But there was also nothing that could be done about it, so he just sighed and prepared his materials.

The bell rang again, and he tried to lose himself in the painting. Instead of no one looking at him, as it were in Mme. Bustier’s class,  _ everyone _ was looking at him. He got the feeling he’d be the subject of everyone’s sketches today. Nothing to be done about it--he surrendered to the attention.

With all eyes on him, it was rather difficult to delve into his art. But he managed, and eventually time began to fly as he finished his baseline sketch from last class, then snagged his pencils to color it in. He looked up, and saw himself done. He… hadn’t expected to finish this class? But he supposed it gave him the time to churn out another drawing later--he just had to turn it in.

The teacher looked up from grading pieces when he approached and put his in the stack. Mme. Moreau took one look at his piece and shook her head.

“I can’t accept this, Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel blinked, taking another look at his piece. He hadn’t stained it, he hadn’t left out a background, everything seemed fine to him. “Wh-what? Why?”

“This doesn’t reflect your skills.”

“I-I-I don’t understand, what do you mean?” the quiet conversations of the class quieted as more people started straining to hear their conversation. 

“This is not your abilities. Your, uhm, situation--”

“Wait. so you’re saying--you’re saying this isn’t  _ my art _ just because I’m  _ cursed?! _ ”

“There’s no need to say it like  _ that, _ Nathaniel. Hawkmoth, like it or not, it's possible he gave you enhanced artistic abilities, incomparable to those you would have otherwise. This isn’t necessarily  _ your _ talent.”

“What, you’re--y-you’re crazy! You watched me draw it right here, it's not like that masked coward was telling me where to put the lines and what colors to use!”

“But we can’t be sure--”

“I--you--urgh! Fine! Then what’s the point of me even  _ being _ here?! Not like I can do any of your dumb assignments if you won’t grade them!” he turned on his heel and stalked out of the classroom, his peers drawing away as he neared. He sent the teacher a final glare before closing the door.

Nathaniel felt his chest tightening, his hands shaking. How--how dare she?! How dare she suggest his art wasn’t  _ his art _ just because of some dumbass curse he didn’t even deserve?! But… what if she was right? Hawkmoth had taken his body, his solitude, his peace of mind--now he was taking his  _ art _ , too?! The only thing he had left, the thing that got him into this mess in the first place?!

  1. Haprele was supposed to make sure the students were in their classes instead of up to no good. Yet… he didn’t even bother trying to stop Nathaniel as he burst through the front doors of the school. Anyone passing in front of the school at the moment gasped, dropping their things, and ran away screaming. God. He’d always wanted to be alone, but… not like _this._



Yet, here he was.

He yanked at the drawstring to his hoodie, tightening it around his head before heading off. He had nowhere to go, he knew that. Those he trusted were all busy--everyone else was too afraid to even look him in the eye.

And he still needed to take that damn test next class. With a sigh, he resigned himself to hiding in the darkest alleyway he could find until it was time to head back to the school. 

Mourning his loss of…  _ everything. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Or at least as much as one can enjoy (what is hopefully a semi-decent) angst fic. IDK about y'all but I suffer just writing and coming up with this stuff, I can barely imagine what it would be like reading it for the first time.   
> Oh yeah, the OC fic I mentioned? I have an ask blog for it, if you're interested in looking through! It's [anip-ocs.tumblr.com](https://anip-ocs.tumblr.com/). Feel free to shoot an ask to learn more about what I do when I'm not writing about Nathaniel in various different contexts. There's also a discord group for the story, the join code is [right here!](https://discord.gg/gqtnVJA)  
> This chapter was beta'ed by the lovely [flautist4ever](https://flautist4ever.tumblr.com/)and [wishfulina](https://wishfulina.tumblr.com/), both of who can be found on Tumblr!  
> If I don't get the chance to update this fic before then, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Years!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow my tumblr, [anipwrites](http://anipwrites.tumblr.com/), or my art-only blog [anip-art!](http://anip-art.tumblr.com/)  
> Thanks for tuning in! Have a wonderful day!


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